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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512260">Gentle Repose</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984'>Miri1984</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>175 spoilers, Graphic Descriptions of Dead Bodies, Grief, M/M, descriptions of death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 04:14:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zolf needs to preserve the bodies. He can do that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gentle Repose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If he keeps busy he doesn’t have to think about what is lying in rows next to the ruins of the ship. That’s why he doesn’t see the eagle until it’s not an eagle any more, why he doesn’t notice Cel’s excited babbling. He’s busy. He’s got a job to do, people to help, </span>
  <em>
    <span>responsibilities </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that means he can’t look at Wilde’s body, can’t catalogue the injuries he’s sustained, work out whether he suffered or whether his death was as fast as he hoped it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Cel, never a quiet person on their best day, is just too big and loud and they keep interrupting the train of his thoughts, and now Hamid and Azu are there as well and they won’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>quiet </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he needs to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>he needs to work out how to get them through all this, get them to Svalbard </span>
  <em>
    <span>finish the mission because it’s the mission that’s important and not the fact that Wilde is lying dead in the snow, bright blood across his chest, bright eyes dulled and empty and…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right what’s going on?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zolf has had a few moments like this, where his heart stutters in his chest and his fingers go numb and tingling and his vision swims. More than a few. He knows how to deal with them, they’re familiar and easy to cover with his usual manner. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What do I need to do. Give me something to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They need to keep the bodies preserved. Well. That’s easy enough. But he needs to meditate for that and he can’t do that here, can’t do it with all the fuss and the noise and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>bodies.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets Hamid cast endure elements on him, small hands touching his. Hamid looks like he’s about to speak, to say something but Zolf </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he pulls his hands away as soon as he can. “Zolf if you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got things to do, Hamid,” he says, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>he sounds short and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>he sounds like he doesn’t care but he ignores the flare of hurt in Hamid’s eyes the way he’s managed so many times before </span>
  <em>
    <span>he can’t be responsible for everyone else’s fragility that’s not what he’s here for not any more they have Azu and Wilde…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hamid has Azu for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finds a spot outside the clearing, far enough away that he won’t be disturbed but close enough that he’ll be able to hear if there is any commotion. He sits, cross legged in the snow and closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he comes back Azu and Hamid are missing but no one seems panicked about that so he ignores it, puts it in a compartment to deal with when they’ve dealt with everything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him knows there is going to be a reckoning, when this is all over, but that was the agreement he made with himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>with Wilde </span>
  </em>
  <span>when they said the mission had to come first.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t part of the mission you had a plan if he died and this isn’t the plan Zolf you should be taking their help for the ship and accepting the loss not…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He squashes his inner voice, eyes squeezing shut as he concentrates on his power. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not the time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hamid returns just as he is making his way over to the bodies and moves as if to follow him but Zolf shakes his head firmly and Hamid, who has, it seems, learned a </span>
  <em>
    <span>few </span>
  </em>
  <span>things in the years (weeks for him) they’ve been apart lets him go. He kneels by Sassraa’s body first, tiny and crumpled. She looks peaceful, but maybe that’s because he doesn’t know kobold anatomy well enough to understand how she’s wrong. It doesn’t matter. He passes his hands over her and mutters the words and feels his power course through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It works, though, and he doesn’t have time to analyse differences when there are three others to deal with. Meerk is the same as Sassraa - he’d only really just started being able to tell them apart in life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carter is next, and that is more difficult, because there is no way he can avoid looking at how very wrong he looks, his head the wrong shape, his neck broken. This body doesn’t look like Carter at all any more, and Zolf </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>him and he mutters the spell as quickly as possible, touching Carter’s skin as little as he can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he moves to Wilde. He takes a breath, raising his hands, before he remembers.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The cuffs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands don’t shake as he rolls up Wilde’s trouser leg (there’s less blood here, it’s easier to imagine he’s just helping him check for veins </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zolf be a dear and help me with these it’s always so awkward</span>
  </em>
  <span>) and unlocks them. They feel heavy in his hands and he cannot help but think of Wilde, in Paris, dispelling his create water, Wilde, raising his arms and calling down an illusion so massive and complex it fooled a city, Wilde, stalking away from the airship in the wet and the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilde short haired and haggard, asking him for help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallows. Shoves the shackles into his pocket, then reaches out to touch Wilde’s face for the spell he needs to cast. The wound that killed him is in his chest. Wilde’s face is clear and relaxed and he looks so </span>
  <em>
    <span>peaceful </span>
  </em>
  <span>like this. Resting in a way that he’d never seen the man manage in life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The skin is cold and Zolf’s hands don’t shake, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they don’t shake.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t have time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he tells himself, not realising that he’s smoothing his hand through the hair at Wilde’s temple. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s still hope. We’ll fix this. You don’t get to fuck off and leave us like this, Oscar, you still have work to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
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